We are sons of the stars and the song of the moon,

of the animal howl of humanity

Thus we have grown in the fabric of their voices;

Sprouting

Pulsing

Being born

Dying and being born again

To the rowdy ripple that spreads like quiet thunder

From the height to the depth of the restless roots of time

We are sons of the stars and the song of the moon,

of the animal howl of humanity, and behold

A glimmer